Sunset Beach(85)
“It’s just … spots,” Wendy said. “The point is, the nurse says I probably need to go home and get some rest. Brice drove us to work this morning, so…”
“I’ll take you home,” Drue said quickly. “Can you walk?”
“Don’t be so dramatic. I’m not dying.” Wendy swung her feet onto the floor and slipped on her shoes and grabbed her Louis Vuitton tote.
“Let’s go,” she told Drue. “And not a word about this to the rest of the staff.”
As they passed through the reception area, Wendy paused beside the reception desk, waiting while Marianne completed a phone call.
“Drue and I are going out to lunch, and then doing some shopping,” she said. “Her phone line will be off-line for the rest of the day. Tell any of my callers that I’ll be back in the office in the morning, but do not forward any calls to me, unless it’s life and death.”
Marianne looked astounded. “You’re going to lunch, together?”
“Girl time,” Drue said lightly, tucking her arm through Wendy’s.
* * *
On the twenty-minute drive out to Brice and Wendy’s house at the beach, Drue kept surreptitiously glancing at her passenger.
“Would you quit it?” Wendy said finally. “I told you. I’m fine. I just saw my doctor. I’m not hemorrhaging and I’m not going to have the baby in the front seat of your car.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” Drue said. “I wouldn’t want to mar OJ’s pristine upholstery or anything.”
Wendy looked around the car with obvious distaste, taking in the discarded water bottles and fast-food wrappers on the floor, and the cracked and peeling vinyl dashboard and seats.
“How old is this car anyway?”
“Not all that old,” Drue said. “How do you feel?”
“Will you stop?” Wendy said. “I’m only pregnant. I’m not dying.”
“Great,” Drue said, “because I was just thinking about how Dad will never forgive me and totally blame me for the rest of my life if anything goes wrong with you and this baby.”
Wendy gave a weak smile. “Yeah, he is pretty over-the-top about this whole baby thing. I had no idea how emotional he’d get. He’s driving me crazy, treating me like I’m some kind of fragile bone-china teacup.”
“Well, you are the vessel carrying his son and namesake,” Drue pointed out.
“This all must seem pretty absurd to you.”
“Doesn’t matter what I think,” Drue said. “If you two are happy about the baby, I’m glad for you.”
“Seriously? You’re not jealous? Not even a little bit? I know you and Brice didn’t have a very good relationship, back in the day.”
Drue shrugged. “It’s true we didn’t have the typical daddy-daughter relationship. But I wasn’t the only kid in the world growing up with divorced parents. And yeah, he wasn’t really involved in my life most of the time, but I’m fine with that. I’m not one of these people who want to gaze at my navel and talk about my toxic childhood. Shit happens. You go through it, and then you get over it.”
Wendy stared out the window, her long red hair obscuring Drue’s view of her face. “Sometimes you don’t ever get over stuff. You know, my dad died not long after Brice and I got married. He never forgave me, wouldn’t even come to our wedding.”
“He didn’t approve of the age difference?” Drue asked.
“Among other things,” Wendy said. “His loss, not mine.” She started to say something, but shook her head.
“What?” Drue asked.
“I guess I’ve had forgiveness on my mind a lot lately,” Wendy said. She looked straight at Drue.
“I’ve been pretty shitty to you, haven’t I?”
“Yeah. You have. We were friends once, until you decided we were frenemies. I was a kid back then, going through a lot of shit, and when you dumped me, it hurt. I was devastated.”
“I know,” Wendy said softly. “I should have handled it differently. I should have stood up to my dad and admitted that the Disney trip was my idea. I was too chicken.”
“He was kind of a bully, your dad, right?” Drue asked.
Wendy’s eyes filled with tears. She nodded. “Maybe that’s why I fell for Brice all those years later. Because he was the opposite of my dad.”
“Daddy complex?” Drue raised one eyebrow.
“No,” Wendy said firmly. “Brice is a good guy, Drue. You’ll probably never know just how good.”
She grimaced slightly and pressed her hands on her abdomen.
“What? What is it?” Drue asked.
“Just a little cramping,” Wendy said. “It started when we got in the car. It’s probably nothing. Just take me home.”
“No way,” Drue said. She signaled and made a quick right turn into a shopping center parking lot. “You’re either going to your obstetrician’s office or the emergency room. Which is it?”
Wendy sighed heavily. “Okay, maybe you’re right. Dr. Dillard’s office is right next to St. Anthony’s.”
She closed her eyes and her face contorted again. She took her phone from her purse. “I’ll call to let them know I’m coming in. Happy?”